


Taking Care of Romance

by meesha1971



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts Era, Romance, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-21
Updated: 2008-02-21
Packaged: 2018-10-27 15:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meesha1971/pseuds/meesha1971
Summary: With Harry obsessed with the Deathly Hallows and Hermione upset with him for leaving, Ron is left to take charge. Will a special Valentine encourage Hermione to forgive him?Written for theRon/Hermione Colorful Winter Quote!fic ChallengeatCheckmated.





	Taking Care of Romance

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
> Note from meesha1971: Thank you for saving my story and archiving it here. 
> 
> **Author's notes:** This story has already been beta read and posted on Checkmated.

 

  
Author's notes:

_This was written for the_ **[Ron/Hermione Colorful Winter Quote!fic Challenge](http://forums.checkmated.com/index.php?showtopic=8054)**  at  **[Checkmated](http://www.checkmated.com/)**.  Thanks to mybeta, **punimpotter** \- as well as **Hinoema** , **undercloakkept** , and **Jeff** -for all their help and wonderful suggestions. Please read and review. Thanks!  
  
Some of the text and dialog in this story comes from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, chapter 22, The Deathly Hallows.  


**Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, Scholastic and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission.  
  
No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off this story, and it is for entertainment purposes only. **

* * *

The patter of rain slowly infiltrated his dreams as he heard the patter of tiny feet. The little girl ran up to hug him, her laughter tinkling in his ear as he swung her around, her red hair shining in the sun like a rose.  
  
"You'll make her sick," Hermione said, trying to sound stern though Ron could hear the laughter in her voice.  
  
"Nah," he said, laughing. "She likes it. Don't you?"  
  
"Higher, Daddy!"  
  
"That's my little Rose," he said, lifting her higher and spinning.  
  
The tinkling laughter became the clatter of plates, abruptly dragging Ron from the warmth of his dreams to the cold, uncomfortable reality of his cot. Grimacing, he rubbed his hands over his face, trying to orient himself to his surroundings. He heard Harry snoring on the cot next to him, but he knew without looking that the other cot was empty. Predictably, Hermione was already up and making breakfast, the cups in her hands tinkling together as she moved through the little kitchen in the tent.  
  
Rose – where had that come from? He'd had dreams about Hermione before – for years if he was honest with himself – usually the kind where he was happy because Hermione had never shown any interest in Legilimency. He had never had a dream like this one before, but it had felt so real. It had been a nice feeling...being with Hermione ... the little girl laughing, safe and happy. "Rose ... nice name for a girl," he mumbled, wondering if the dream would come back to him if he went back to sleep.  
  
"Ron?" Hermione's voice penetrated his thoughts and he shook his head to clear it. "Ron, did you say something?" Hermione asked quietly.  
  
"Yeah ... er ... no," he muttered. "Just dreaming."  
  
Hermione smiled, causing a familiar tremor that spread from his chest to his stomach, and then went back to making tea. Ron dressed quickly, buoyed by her smile – the first genuine smile she had given him since he had returned. He joined her a few minutes later, taking the tea she offered him with a tentative smile of his own. Since the ... _thing_ ... with that stupid locket, he still wasn't quite sure where he stood with Hermione or if she was still angry with him.  
  
"Was it a good one?" she asked, looking down at her cup.  
  
"A good one?" Ron repeated, bemused.  
  
"Your dream," Hermione said in a low voice. "Was it a good one?"  
  
"Oh, the dream," Ron said, feeling heat around his ears as he remembered bits and pieces of his dream. "Yeah, it was. It was a real good one," he said wistfully. It didn't seem the right time to tell her that he'd been dreaming of her ... of _them_ ... with a child. "Did you sleep all right?" he added quickly, hoping she wouldn't ask any more about his dream.  
  
"Yes," she said, staring back down at her cup. "Better than I have in a while. I didn't think I would with ..." She looked over at Harry, still sleeping. "Thank you," she said suddenly, looking back at him.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For backing me up last night," she said, tracing the pattern on the table with her finger. "That ... _legend_ would be tempting for anyone and – " She trailed off and looked over at Harry again, worry written on her face.  
  
"I don't think Dumbledore wanted us to go look for the Hallows," Ron said with a shrug. "That's why he left you that book instead of telling Harry about them. He knew you'd be skeptical and keep Harry from – "  
  
"They _can't_ be real," she said insistently.  
  
"Harry's cloak – " he began, but Hermione interrupted him, shaking her head.  
  
"You can't bring people back from the dead, Ron," she said. "No magic can do that."  
  
Ron ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. He could see that Hermione was afraid, but they couldn't help Harry if they didn't work together. "Whether they're real or not, Dumbledore wanted us to know about them," he said, looking over at Harry to make sure he was still asleep. "I think it's a warning."  
  
"A warning?" Ron could hear the unspoken skepticism, but pressed on.  
  
"You-Know-Who's trying to find a wand he can use against Harry," said Ron, keeping his voice low. "That's why he kidnapped Ollivander. The Elder Wand's supposed to be unbeatable. Dumbledore probably figured You-Know-Who'd go after it eventually."  
  
"We can't go after You-Know-Who until the Horcruxes are destroyed!" Doubt and fear had caused her to raise her voice, and she looked quickly towards the bedroom before saying more quietly. "What are we supposed to do?"  
  
"Find the Horcruxes," said Ron, leaning forward. "That's what Dumbledore wanted us to do. There's nothing we can do about the wand."  
  
"It's just a legend anyway," Hermione said quietly, though Ron did not miss the shiver that went through her. "Wands are only as powerful as the wizards who use them."  
  
"A legend Dumbledore wanted us to know about," Ron repeated, not sure if Hermione was trying to convince him or herself.  
  
They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the rain, while Ron struggled to keep his doubts to himself. If You-Know-Who found that wand ... he didn't want to think about it. How could Harry beat an unbeatable wand? They're only chance was to make sure all the Horcruxes were found and destroyed before ....  
  
They had to get moving. It wasn't wise to stay in one place for too long. Hermione was apparently thinking the same thing. She was already packing things up in the little beaded bag. She really was amazing.  
  
Once Harry was up, they packed up the tent and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night. They persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that were bleak and depressing. The gloomy atmosphere was amplified by Harry's near manic fascination with the Deathly Hallows and nothing, not Hermione's flat disbelief nor Ron's persistent doubts, could sway him. Even the mystery of the silver doe, which Ron was still determined to figure out, seemed to no longer be important to Harry. Ron and Hermione went over it again and again, but they were no closer to figuring out who sent it than they had been the night he and Harry had seen it. While they tried to figure it out, Harry would go off by himself. Ron could tell that Harry's scar was bothering him and he knew Harry was trying to see what You-Know-Who was up to, though he decided to keep that to himself for the time being. While it was disturbing that the connection had opened up again, it had been useful in the past and they needed every advantage they could get. But he knew Hermione would not agree and she was already worried enough about Harry's obsession with the Hallows.  
  
As the weeks crept on, Harry's apathy increased and Ron found himself taking charge, much to his own surprise. It was a position Ron had never imagined himself being in because Harry had always taken the lead. However, with Harry descending into listlessness and Hermione increasingly stressed, he found himself with no choice but to act. The sooner all of this was over, the better. They had to find the Horcruxes and he owed it to both of them to make up for the time they had lost when he left, didn't he? With Harry so obsessed with the Hallows and his own guilt spurring his determination, he felt it his responsibility to encourage and exhort them into action.  
  
"Three Horcruxes left," he kept saying. "We need a plan of action, come on! Where haven't we looked? Let's go through it again. The orphanage ... "  
  
Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, the Riddle House, Borgin and Burkes, Albania, every place that they knew Tom Riddle had ever lived or worked, visited or murdered, Ron and Hermione raked over them again, Harry joining in only when Hermione pestered him. He knew Harry would prefer to be left alone so he could try to read You-Know-Who's thoughts, but Ron insisted on journeying to ever more unlikely places simply to keep them moving.  
  
"You never know," Ron said again. "Upper Flagley is a Wizarding village, he might've wanted to live there. Let's go and have a poke around." He had lost track of how many Wizarding villages they had visited, but they had to catch a break somewhere.  
  
These frequent forays into Wizarding territory brought them within occasional sight of Snatchers. Ron would have preferred to avoid the risk all together, but they had no other options. The Horcruxes weren't going to just fall in their laps. Upper Flagley was no different and they quickly found a place to hide.  
  
"Some of them are supposed to be as bad as Death Eaters," said Ron quietly as a group of them passed by their hiding place. "The lot that got me were a bit pathetic, but Bill reckons some of them are really dangerous. They said on _Potterwatch_ —"  
  
"On what?" said Harry.  
  
" _Potterwatch_ , didn't I tell you that's what it was called? The program I keep trying to get on the radio, the only one that tells the truth about what's going on! Nearly all of the programs are following You-Know-Who's line, all except _Potterwatch_ , I really want you to hear it, but it's tricky tuning in ... "  
  
Once the coast was clear, they split up. Hermione was going to research the village records to see if Tom Riddle had ever lived here or owned property. Ron and Harry were going to try to find out any information they could from the villagers. Ron didn't like the idea of Hermione going off alone, but Hermione had argued that it would take less time and Harry had agreed with her, Ron was sure, so he could go off by himself and concentrate on the Hallows. Once that had been settled, Hermione had transformed their appearance so they could move about freely. She had given herself curly blond hair, thinned her eyebrows, and her eyes appeared to be blue. Ron's hair was now brown and wavy with a long beard and mustache to match, a short, broad nose, and heavy eyebrows. They had all agreed that it would be safest for Harry to hide under his cloak. His scar made him too recognizable and they wanted to conserve the remaining Polyjuice potion as much as possible.  
  
"This beard's making me mad," Ron complained to Harry after Hermione had left them to go research the village records. "I wish she hadn't made it so long. It keeps getting in the way."  
  
Harry snickered and Ron hoped that maybe things were getting back to normal. But Harry quickly disabused him of that notion.  
  
"You go ahead. I'll stay here and keep watch for Hermione," he said and Ron knew that nothing had changed. Harry would watch for Hermione, but they both knew she'd be in there for hours and that would give him time to try to read You-Know-Who's thoughts again.  
  
"All right," he said, resigned. "I'll poke around some of the shops and see if I can pick up any news."  
  
Ron wandered around the village, his concerns circling around in his head with no solution in sight. He didn't know how to snap Harry out of this obsession. He'd never seen Harry like this before, not even the previous year when he had been so bent on following Malfoy around. They needed to work together, but all Harry cared about these days were those stupid Hallows. Ron was beginning to agree with Hermione. They should never have gone to see Xenophilius Lovegood.  
  
He managed to get hold of a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ , but knew at a glance that the news there was pretty much worthless. Still, it was better than nothing so he pocketed it and entered the first shop he came to, hoping he might at least overhear something that would be of use. For a moment, he thought he had somehow been transported back into second year. Lurid pink hearts and flowers covered the walls and heart-shaped confetti was falling from the ceiling. Ron half expected to turn around and see a surly looking dwarf wearing golden wings and carrying a harp. Torn between amusement and revulsion at the sight of all that pink, he shook his head and brought himself back the present, taking _The Daily Prophet_ out of his pocket.  
  
"Valentine's day," he muttered. Had it really been two months since he'd returned? Two months and he still hadn't really talked to Hermione about what happened. Ron hoped that she'd forgiven him for leaving – at times he felt she had. However, with helping Harry and moving all over the landscape, it wasn't like they'd been able to talk like they used to at school. He didn't like feeling so ... he couldn't put his finger on it. He just knew things weren't right, despite appearances. The pink hearts and flowers seemed to mock him and he fought back the urge to turn around and walk out of the shop. He had come here to try to find out some news and there were some people shopping and talking. He might be able to find out something. He couldn't waste the opportunity just because he had mucked up his own love life again.  
  
He walked over to a rack of cards and picked one out at random. The two girls next to him were talking in whispers and giggling over a card. After a few minutes, it was clear they were not going to discuss anything more important than what kind of cards they should get their boyfriends. Ron was strongly reminded of Parvati and Lavender and, when he heard the words "My Sweetheart," he had had enough. He didn't need to be reminded of _that_. He put back the card emblazoned with "My Love" in glittery pink letters and moved to another rack where a man and woman appeared to be in deep discussion.  
  
"I don't know if I should bother," the man was saying. "It's not like anyone actually feels like celebrating these days."  
  
This sounded more promising. Ron moved a bit closer and picked several cards at random to look at while he listened. The sappy poem of the first card made him want to laugh, but he pretended to read it seriously.  
  
"It's not about celebrating," the woman responded. "You need to let her know how you feel. Face it, you screwed up."  
  
"It was a business lunch," the man said with an exasperated sigh. "Noreen can't honestly think I would prefer some blond tart over her. She's way too smart for that."  
  
"It doesn't matter how smart she is," the woman retorted haughtily. "You didn't tell her where you were going and that woman was all over you! Noreen's not a seer. You can't expect her to just know. You have to tell her." She picked out a card and handed it to him. "Or show her."  
  
Ron shifted uncomfortably as they walked away. Did Hermione understand how important she was to him? Hadn't he done the same thing? He'd always depended on Hermione being smart enough to figure it out, but could he honestly expect her to know he loved her with all the mistakes he'd made? He'd been so worried about his family and frustrated about how bad everything had been, he'd taken it out on Hermione. He remembered the book Fred and George had given him and wished he'd kept following the advice in it. He wished that he had a time turner so he could go back and change things.  
  
Ron sighed and looked around the shop. He was wasting his time here. He should go to another shop or maybe the pub. That was good. If there was any news to be heard, the pub would be the place to go. People there wouldn't be talking about relationships and reminding him of how badly he'd messed things up. He put the cards he was holding back on the rack.  
  
"Having trouble finding the right card?" A witch wearing bright pink robes smiled at him.  
  
"Sorry?" Ron asked, feeling warmth in his ears. Now what was he supposed to do?  
  
"Do you need help finding a card?" She picked through several and looked Ron over with a keen eye. "I think these might be more suitable. You don't seem the type for mushy poetry."  
  
"No, I guess not," Ron muttered, shifting uncomfortably. He needed to get out of here, but he couldn't risk drawing attention to himself. It was his own fault for coming into this shop. He should have left the minute he saw those awful pink hearts. He'd wanted to appear as though he was shopping, but he hadn't actually intended to buy anything. He wasn't sure getting Hermione a Valentine was the right thing to do. If she was still angry with him, she probably wouldn't even accept it.  
  
"We have a wide selection of cards and gifts," she said, still smiling. "Who's it for? Wife? Girlfriend?"  
  
"Er ... just a friend," Ron said, feeling the blush creeping up his neck.  
  
"Just a friend?" The witch smiled knowingly. "Must be some friend."  
  
"Yeah, she is," Ron said. This was such a bad idea. "She's been a bit upset with me." Upset? That was an understatement. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea."  
  
"Hmmm," she said, looking through the cards she had picked out. "You'd be surprised how often I hear that. I know it may seem a bit silly, but sometimes the right card can make all the difference. Oh, this one is nice." She handed Ron a vivid pink cark with sparkly hearts moving to and fro on the front and "You're Special to Me" flashing in bright red.  
  
"You really think so?" Ron took the card, briefly wondering why people always chose pink and red for Valentine's Day. Could a simple card make up for such huge mistakes? "I screwed up pretty bad."  
  
"Well, an apology is always best," said the witch with a little laugh. "But sometimes a card can put our feelings into words better than we can."  
  
Still skeptical, Ron opened the card, expecting another silly poem. But it was nice. No flowery rhymes or sappy sentiments. Just a simple message that seemed perfect for Hermione. "Okay, you've convinced me. I'll take it."  
  
"Wonderful," she said, smiling broadly. "Would you like to pick out a gift to go with it?"  
  
"Er ... I'm not sure I can afford ..." Ron blushed and tried to remember how much money he had left from what Bill had lent him. He needed to make things right with Hermione again, but he knew he needed to be practical as well.  
  
The witch continued to smile; though it was clear her hopes for a big sale had been dashed. "Something simple then." She walked over to a display of flowers and picked out a single rose. "Perfect."  
  
Ron fidgeted while she rang up his purchases, hoping neither Harry nor Hermione would walk by and spot him. He wasn't sure this would work and he certainly didn't want to attempt it in front of Harry. How was he going to hide this? He could put the card in his pocket, but the rose might be damaged that way. He left the shop and looked around for another. He'd have to buy something else. Then he could put everything in one bag and, hopefully, Harry and Hermione wouldn't notice. He spotted a grocer down the street and headed in that direction. They did need some food. If he couldn't get any news, at least the trip wouldn't be completely wasted.  
  
An hour later, Ron returned the spot where he had left Harry. He was disappointed that he hadn't been able to find out any news, but somewhat hopeful that he had come up with a way to talk to Hermione and make things right between them again.  
  
"Any luck?" Harry's voice came from somewhere to his left and startled him out of is reverie.  
  
"No," said Ron, shaking his head. "There weren't too many people out shopping and the pub was pretty much deserted. I did get some food though," he added, lifting the small bag of groceries.  
  
"Well, at least it wasn't a complete waste of time," Harry said. "Maybe Hermione will have found out something."  
  
She hadn't. When she joined them, she gave a small shake of her head and Ron knew she hadn't found anything that would help. Carefully avoiding the Snatchers on the outskirts of the village, they found a secluded area and Apparated back to the tent. Hermione removed their disguises and went back to her books, still hoping to find something that would give them a lead. Harry went outside to keep watch for a while and Ron knew he wanted to be left alone to try to read You-Know-Who's thoughts again. He put away the food and, while Hermione was distracted, signed the card he had purchased. He was trying to decide what to do with it when Hermione walked in.  
  
"What's that?" she asked, bemused.  
  
"This?" Ron felt his whole face heat up and cursed inwardly. Now what? "Er ... one of the shops was all decorated for Valentine's Day ... thought I might be able to hear some news, yeah? I didn't though and was trying to leave, but the shopkeeper spotted me and started asking questions ..." He knew he was rambling and Hermione's growing smile wasn't helping. His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure she could hear it and his stomach was all in knots. What if she hated it? He picked up the envelope and the rose with sweaty hands and held them out to her.  
  
"I got these for you," he croaked, feeling his face heat up even more. He couldn't look her in the eye, but he noticed her hands were trembling a bit and she gave a small, nervous laugh.  
  
"I ... er ... I'll be right back," she blurted and ran from the room, leaving Ron confused. Was she mad? Hermione didn't usually laugh when she was mad, but ...  
  
She came back before he could finish the thought and nervously handed him a small bag. "I saw the same shop," she said, smiling shyly.  
  
Mystified, Ron stared at the bag as Hermione took his card out of the envelope. Her eyes were suspiciously moist, but she gave him a tremulous smile when she read the front. The sparkly pink hearts and "You're Special to Me" seemed so much more vivid in the gloom of the tent. He watched her nervously as she opened it and read. He didn't need to see it – he had memorized it while sitting in the deserted pub, hoping someone would come in.

 

> _Someone who takes time to think of other people's needs and warms so many hearts with gentle words and thoughtful deeds, someone who's so glad to share, so glad to help and give and care adds something very special to the world._
> 
> There's no one who is quite like you, for no one else could be as thoughtful in as many ways as you have been to me ... And no one else could do and say the special things you do or ever mean as much to me – there's no one quite like you.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day

He watched her eyes roam over the words and he knew when she reached the end and read what he wrote.

 _I'm sorry for everything_  
  
Love, Ron

A single tear rolled down her cheek and Ron was sure he had messed up again. She didn't like it. He had known it was a stupid idea. A card couldn't make up for ...  
  
"It's beautiful," she said, smiling.  
  
"You like it?" Why was she crying? He would never understand girls.  
  
"I like it very much," she said, but her smile faltered as she looked down at the card. "It was the locket, not you."  
  
She wasn't asking, but Ron could hear the question in her voice. He shifted in his seat and looked at the bag she had given him. He couldn't open it yet.  
  
"It was mostly the locket," he said quietly, fearing her reaction. "But it was me too. I ... it's just ... I don't know. It was everything and the locket just made it all worse. But I'm kinda glad it did because it forced me to face it all. I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, fervently hoping she would believe him. "I just couldn't understand ... I mean ... Harry's special and you're ... well, you're just amazing and brilliant and beau – er – just incredible really. And I'm just ..."  
  
"Just what?" Hermione asked fiercely. "You've always been there to help and you have helped. There's so much that we couldn't have done without you. We needed you. _I_ needed you."  
  
"I know," he said, slumping back in his chair. "I just didn't understand why. I'm not special or famous or – "  
  
"Do you really think I'm that shallow?" Her eyes flashed dangerously.  
  
"No," he said quickly. " _I_ was. It was _me_. I knew it was stupid and that's what I always told myself. I knew it ... here," he added, pointing to his head. "But I couldn't get rid of it and the locket ..."  
  
"Oh, Ron," Hermione said, taking his hands. "Don't you know – "  
  
"I do now," he said, shrugging slightly. "At least I think so. When Harry opened the locket ..." He couldn't stop the shudder that passed through him with the memory.  
  
"I knew Harry wasn't telling me all of it," she said, glancing towards the entrance to the tent. "It must have been awful."  
  
She held his hands tightly as he nodded, silently encouraging him to go on. Telling her what had happened was almost as bad as experiencing it, the horrible figures of Harry and Hermione taunting him. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and just let it pour out, like a poison being removed from his soul. He wasn't sure when or how, but when he was done, Hermione was hugging him and they were both crying.  
  
"It was stupid," he said, holding her tightly to him. "I know it was stupid and I'm so sorry that I let it get to me like that."  
  
"It's over," she said, running her fingers through his hair and soothing him. "And I'm just as much to blame."  
  
"You?" He looked at her incredulously.  
  
"If I hadn't tried to hide – " She smiled tentatively as she pulled away from him. "You said all those wonderful things about me, but I've never really believed any of that about myself. I'm the bookworm. The bossy know-it-all. A nightmare."  
  
"No," he said, taking her hands. "You can't believe that I ... you're not a nightmare."  
  
"Well, we've both been pretty stupid," she said, a small laugh escaping. "I didn't want you to know because I wasn't sure that you ... I was afraid you would laugh."  
  
"Only because I would have been happy," he said, hoping to tease another smile from her. "You make me happy and I swear I'll do my best not to hurt you ever again. I'm going to take things more seriously from now on."  
  
"Not too seriously I hope," she said, smiling as she wiped her eyes.  
  
"Wait," he said in mock alarm. "Is this really Hermione Granger telling me not to take things seriously?"  
  
"Oh, ha ha," she said, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "I have learned one thing from you over the years."  
  
"Really?" Ron was intrigued. "What could I have possibly taught the brightest witch of our year?"  
  
"Don't take life too seriously," she said, smiling again, "you'll never get out of it alive"  
  
Ron laughed and pulled her back to him for another hug. "Truer words have never been spoken," he said. He felt as though a great weight had been lifted from him and he knew that they would be all right. Whatever happened, they would face it together.  
  
"You didn't open yours," she said, pulling away and handing him the bag again.  
  
He had nearly forgotten she had gotten him something too. He opened the bag and pulled out a single chocolate frog in a pink box with hearts all over it.  
  
"Blimey," he said, incredulously. "Even chocolate frogs have to be pink today."  
  
Hermione laughed, but stopped when he pulled out the card. She was twisting her hands together and worrying her bottom lip. He found it endearing that she was just as nervous as he had been and he smiled to reassure her. On the front of the card, in big pink letters was a single line.

_People always say, "When you find the ONE, you'll just know."_

His heart was pounding and his stomach was in knots again as he opened the card.

 _I knew. (still do.)_  
  
HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY  
  
Love Hermione

Ron gaped at the card for a moment, before looking up at Hermione's nervous face and beaming at her. She smiled and, wrapping her arms around him again, pressed her lips to his.  
  
"Happy Valentines Day, Ron."  
  
"Happy Valentine's Day, love."

 


End file.
